Please Trust Me
by l0v3l1k3w1nt3r
Summary: After a bad breakup, Greg thought he'd never be lucky in love again. Until the new CSI, Kirsten stepped into the picture. However, that picture so happens to include Nick Stokes as Kirsten's older, protective brother... EPILOGUE! FINITO!
1. A bad Breakup

A/N: Whooooaaaa.. A bit long for an update. Well summer's finally here, and now I have all the free time I want to continue updating my stories (yay)! Hmm I think this is probably one of those rare stories about Greg and Nick that is a romance story, but is not between them (naww it's the only one :P) This is my first CSI fanfic, be nice dudes.

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI. However, I DO have pictures of Greg and Eric Szmanda. THOSE are mine :D

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Chapter 1: Victim

Greg looked miserably at the dead body in front of him. Stab wounds and huge bruises ran down the victim's body. A pool of blood surrounded it, accompanied by the blood splatters on the motel walls. A telephone cord was wrung around the victim's neck. Great. Another brutal murder.

"Greg? You OK?" Nick punched Greg softly on the shoulder. Greg slapped on his gloves. "Never been better." Was his mere reply. He squatted down beside the corpse. "Looks like it was a slice n' dice." Greg continued. Noticing something white in the victim's breast pocket, and picked it up with the tweezers. "A business card." Nick commented. Greg read the fine text on the card. "Roy Spearman. Insurance Broker." he read. "Well, we've got an identity, that should help." said Nick, pulling on his gloves. "Let's get started." he continued.

A couple of what seemed like hours passed. Grimly, Greg used a cotton swab to take a sample of something that looked like dirt from the victim's fingernails. Behind him, Nick was taking pictures of the crime scene. "Heh, isn't that funny… This guy must be living off the Benjamin's instead of this broken down motel room." said Nick. Greg shrugged. "Maybe he was at a meeting which went awry." he suggested.

Nick then crossed his arms. "You seem depressed." he assumed. Greg looked up at him. "What makes you say that?" he asked. Nick continued taking photographs, talking as he worked. "Well, you're much quieter than usual, and you have your iPod out a lot more often." he started. Greg sighed. Alright, might as well spill the beans.." He put the cotton swab in a container. "I broke up with my girlfriend two days ago." Greg admitted. Nick shook his head sympathetically. "Ouch, what happened?" he asked. Greg shrugged again. "She wanted to be more… _committed._ But I felt that we weren't ready yet, and she got upset." Greg explained. "Didn't feel ready? What do you mean?" Nick questioned. He took a picture of blood drops on the wall. "Actually… the reason's a bit off balance to the reason I told her. Madison was getting a bit too pushy and she was moving at a pace I couldn't keep up with in our relationship." Greg continued. "And the result…" said Nick. Greg stood up. "I wasn't in love with her anymore." he answered.

Suddenly, Nick's cell phone rang. He took off one of his gloves and answered it. "Stokes." he replied formally. There was a long pause, then Nick cursed. "Shit I forgot! Hold on, I'm on my way!" he said frantically. Nick closed his cell phone, and took off his other glove. "I gotta go pick up my kid sister at the airport. She can get mad pretty easily. Do you mind?" he asked Greg. Greg put his hand on his side. "I could pick her up for you. You can continue the case. Besides, you'd do better than me." Greg offered. Nick sighed. "I dunno… Like I said, she's got a short temper, and I'm supposed to show her around the crime lab. She's the new CSI." Nick contemplated. "She's the new CSI?" Greg asked. Nick ignored his question, and checked his watch, groaning. "OK, you can go and pick her up. Her flight number is 138, from California. Her name's Kirsten, and she's usually wearing a Hang Ten shirt. Got that?" Nick asked. Greg nodded, and gave Nick his tool kit. As he walked away, Nick shouted something out to him. "Oh and by the way, Kirsten's only two years younger than you, so play it safe around her, if you know what I mean!" Nick warned. Greg smirked, and shook his head. "Temptation at my state? Yeah right!" he replied.

Greg pulled out the car keys to the van, and unlocked the van. He climbed in and started the engine. "Here we go…" he said to himself, and drove off.


	2. Inches Away

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI. However, I DO have pictures of Greg and Eric Szmanda. THOSE I own:D

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Chapter 2: Inches away 

Leaning on his elbow on the side of the door, a thousand thoughts filled Greg's head. Was she really that short-tempered? How would she react to him? How would he react to her?

Greg stared at the dozens of cars in front of him. "Come on, turn green already…" he urged the stoplight. To his delight, the stoplight turned green, and he stepped on the car pedal.

The airport was very crowded, much to Greg's displeasure. He looked frantically at the flight listings. "Flight 138, from Los Angeles, California to Las Vegas, Nevada… Nick never told me which city she was coming in from, but it has to be L.A." Greg thought to himself. He headed to the Right Wing of the airport, running to the flight gate. None of the girls he saw was wearing a Hang Ten shirt. Cursing his bad luck, he decided to go get some coffee before searching for this 'Kirsten' girl.

Giving the cashier lady some change, Greg left the coffee shop in the airport cafeteria with his cup of coffee. "If they only had Blue Hawaiian…" he said to himself. As he coolly sipped his drink, he noticed a beautiful girl sitting alone at a table, reading a magazine. She had wavy, blonde-streaked brown hair and bright green eyes. She had Capri's on, and, what caught Greg's attention the most, a red Hang Ten shirt. Was she Kirsten? Greg had to admit, she did resemble Nick a little. Hesitating, Greg decided to approach her.

He sat down on the chair across from the girl. She pretended not to notice, and continued reading her magazine. Greg cleared his throat to get her attention. "Uh… did you get off the flight from Los Angeles, California?" he asked her. The girl looked up, an eyebrow raised. "Yeah, I did." came her annoyed reply. "You must be Kirsten Stokes then." said Greg, sounding pleased. The girl closed her magazine. "And how'd you know that?" she asked suspiciously. "Nick said you'd be wearing a Hang Ten shirt." he replied. The girl, obviously Kirsten, groaned. "I _knew _he'd get someone else to pick me up!" she complained. "No, you've got it all wrong! I volunteered to pick you up so he could do the case. I'm only a CSI Level One." Greg persuaded. Kirsten rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Just get me out of here." she said.

In the van, Greg couldn't help but look at Kirsten. She was very pretty, a bit feisty, but nonetheless pretty. And to think she was only inches away…His heart pounded against his chest. Did he like her? He couldn't He had just gotten out of a relationship, _plus_ she was Nick's sister! Greg's head was so full of possible conclusions to his situation, he wasn't really paying much attention to the road… "HEY! WAKE UP!" came Kirsten's voice. Greg shook his head, and looked around. Luckily, he had stopped in front of a red stoplight. "What the hell were you thinking? We could've crashed, idiot!" Kirsten scolded. Greg pushed the gas pedal as soon as the light turned green. "Sorry. Just dozed off there for a moment. And I prefer to being called 'Greg'. Greg Sanders." he said. "Pleasure." said Kirsten sarcastically, and then leaned her head against the window.

At the crime lab, Greg and Kirsten bumped into Nick. "Hey." Nick greeted. Kirsten hit Nick on the chest. "You jerk!" she said., and crossed her arms. "Look, I'm sorry, alright? I'll eve take you to Grissom." he promised. Kirsten just shook her head, and walked with Nick down the hallway. While Kirsten wasn't looking, Nick looked back at Greg, and mouth a 'thank you'. Greg grinned. '_Things at the crime lab are gonna get interesting…' _he thought.


	3. Discomfort

A/N: Got bored… so I decided to type up Chapter Three… Hooray.

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI. However, I DO own pictures of Greg Sanders and Eric Szmanda. THOSE I own :D

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Chapter 3: Discomfort

A few days after Kirsten's arrival, Nick walked to the analysis room, and encountered Greg. "Hey, what's up?" he asked. Greg, who was looking at something through a microscope, replied; "I'm taking a look at this little piece of 'dirt' I found under Roy Spearman's nails. Wanna check it out?" He moved out of the way to let Nick see for himself. "Heh… a piece of flesh?" he wondered out loud. Greg nodded. "I tested it on the samples taken from his neighbors, no match. It might match one of his clients' DNA though." he added. Nick grunted, and then patted Greg on the back. "Good job." he commented, and began to walk away.

A sudden thought occurred to Nick, and he turned around. "Oh, Greg? Just to tell you, Kirsten's gonna start work here soon." he added. Greg just nodded, not paying much attention. "Mhmm…" he said half-heartedly. "Nick shook his head, and put his hand on his side. "OK, I know she wasn't very pleasant, but she wasn't in a very good mood. You'll like Kirsten eventually, promise." Nick persuaded. Greg just nodded again, putting the piece of flesh in a container. Nick rubbed the back of his neck. "Well you're gonna have to eventually… she's assigned to our case for a field test." he told Greg. Greg gave another mere nod. Nick chuckled.

Kirsten and Greg took a look at the corpse in the autopsy room. Greg stayed on the other side of the table from Kirsten, feeling shy and awkward. He had felt this way about her since their last meeting. Something about her made him very uncomfortable, and he decided to keep his distance. They looked at crime scene photos and autopsy reports together, comparing the autopsy reports to the corpse. "Three types of wounds… three weapons?" Kirsten asked. Greg showed her a picture of the telephone wire that was wrung around the victim's neck. "This was a murder weapon. Any thoughts?" he asked, reminding her of the necessity of her test. "Well… were there any fingerprints?" she asked him. Greg nodded. "No matches to the neighbors, confirming that they didn't do it… So one of Roy's clients must've done it." Greg concluded. "Yup, and Nick is taking their DNA samples as we speak." said Kirsten. Kirsten then took a look at a crime scene photo of blood drops and the victim's head. "The bruise on Roy Spearman's head looks like it was caused by a blunt weapon… Plus blood only spills by the direction it was thrown in, and the blood drops in the photo are in an angle…" Kirsten contemplated for a while. A thought then struck her. "Did you know that I used to play baseball in the seventh grade? My team and I would play rain or shine." she said to Greg as-a -matter-of-factly. Greg shrugged. "So?" he asked her. Kirsten held up the crime scene photo. "Where would water on a bat fly off to if the bat is swung?" she replied.

Greg and Kirsten now stood in a small, confined testing room. Greg stood in front of a plastic head bust, Kirsten off to the side. She handed Greg a bat covered in red paint. "Are you sure about this hunch of yours?" he asked her. "Yup. Now swing away, batter." she said confidently. Greg sighed, and hit the head bust with the bat. He waited as Kirsten compared the paint on the wall with the crime scene photo. "Well? Results?" he asked. Kirsten gave him a grin. "Home run." she remarked.

"So, any baseball playing clients Nick?" Kirsten asked during a phone conversation with Nick. "Not that I know of, but I can check some people out. Any luck on the murder weapons?" he asked. "We confirmed that a baseball was used that caused the bruise on the victim's head. The form of the bruise and the blood drops on the wall confirm it. Greg and I will try to find the last murder weapon on our next shift." Kirsten answered. "Good… By the way Kirsten, a word of advice: Don't torment Greg too much." Nick joked. "I'll try not to bite hard." Kirsten replied slyly, and hung up.

She headed to the locker room to grab her stuff. Finding her locker, Kirsten opened it, and got out her purse. Hearing footsteps, she turned to the direction they were coming from. "Hey Greg." she greeted. Greg gave her a weak smile, and opened his locker. "Uh… looks like we're locker neighbors." he said. Kirsten gave a smile back. "Oh, by the way, good job with the bat hunch." said Greg. "Thanks." Kirsten then sat down on the metal bench. "This is pathetic… I have to wait for Nick to get a ride… I haven't gotten a rental yet." she moaned. Greg shrugged. "I could drive you home if you want." he offered. Kirsten then thought for a while. "Well… it's less of a hassle for Nick… Alright, I'll call and tell him you'll drive me home instead." she said.

Greg shifted uneasily in the driver's seat. Why did he seem so tense? He had only known Kirsten for a day, and even though he kinda liked her, he was afraid of her. Was it because she reminded him of Madison? No, he couldn't think about that right now. Still, the awkward silence was bothering him…

"Uh, so… confident you're gonna pass the field test?" Greg asked Kirsten. Kirsten looked at him before answering. "Yeah… definitely." she replied. "At your age? That's impressive. Well, then again, I became a CSI at your age." said Greg. Kirsten just nodded her head uncomfortably. "Umm… cool." she replied. There was another discomforted silence. Greg looked back and forth from the road to Kirsten. What was he supposed to say to her now? He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the music in his iPod. "Hey… what song are you listening to?" Kirsten asked him all of a sudden. "Some Marilyn Manson, is all." he replied. Kirsten nodded, then looked out the window. '_Could things be any more awkward…_' she thought to herself.

Greg parked in front of the apartment building Kirsten was staying at. He patiently kept the motor on so that he could leave after Kirsten disappeared behind the door. However, Kirsten didn't budge. Feeling even more uncomfortable, Greg cleared his throat nervously. "We're here." he said quietly. "I know." Kirsten replied. She huddled her purse close to her. "Uh… listen… I feel a bit weird right now… could you walk me to my room?" Kirsten asked Greg. Greg hesitated, then turned off the motor. "Alright then." he said. The two of them got out of the car.

Both Greg and Kirsten stood on one side of the elevator, looking at each other blankly. What was going to happen next. Greg nearly jumped when the elevator bell rang as soon as the elevator reached Kirsten's floor. They then passed numerous doors down the hallway. '_Please make this all end…_' Greg thought to himself. Kirsten suddenly stopped in front of a door, and pulled out her keys. She unlocked her door, and then looked around. "Thanks for the ride." she said. Greg gave a weak smile. "No problem." He replied. The two of them stood there, Kirsten's hand on her doorknob, Greg's shaking hands buried deep into his jacket. Kirsten then looked around again, and opened her door. "Bye." she said, and then began to closed the door behind her. Greg waved his hand to her. The door then closed in front of him.

Greg turned around, and started walking very fast. His steps became paces, then turned to running. He had never felt more scared in his life, and he had no specific reason to be. Was it because he felt that he was going to fall in love again, and it would end in another heart-shattering break up? What was wrong with him?


	4. Tension

A/N: Forgive me if the updates are kinda slow… I'm still toying with the story plot a bit. Plus I keep on forgetting to save every time I press that damn 'close' button… sigh

Disclaimer: I do NOT own CSI. However, I DO have pictures of Greg Sanders and Eric Szmanda. THOSE I own!

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_Side note: _The disclaimer must be really annoying by now, eh? Lol

Chapter 4: Tension

"OUCH!" Greg fell off his bed, and landed hard on his hardwood floor. Rubbing his back, he painfully got up. Greg had slept for a full 8 hours, and he still felt restless. Greg took a shower, got dressed, and had some coffee. He drove to work with no earphones on.

At the crime lab, Greg encountered a very wiry Nick. "Did you have Warrick's Cuban blend again?" Greg asked. Nick shook his head. "Kirsten's cat jumped on me in the car while I was driving us to work." said Nick. Greg chuckled. "Her cat?" he asked. Nick gave him a look, and opened his locker. "Well you seem like my polar opposite. Did you have _any _coffee this morning? You look awful." Nick commented, stuffing his sunglasses and a book into his locker. "I fell off my bed again for the third time in a row. My back is killing me." Greg complained. Nick gave him a fake sympathetic look, and closed his locker. "Hey, where did Kirsten go last night? She left the lab without me, and I'm her only ride. Not to mention she never called." said Nick. Greg froze for a minute. "I uh… gave her a ride home." he said quietly. Nick grinned, and leaned against the lockers. "I _knew _you'd start to like her." he said. "Who said I liked her?" Greg defended. "Oh come on, not even the least bit?" Nick teased. He punched Greg softly on the arm. "N-no…" Greg said shyly, like a school boy. Warrick suddenly entered the locker room. "Hey guys. Whoa, Nick, did you steal my Cuban blend again?" he asked. Nick groaned, and smacked his head. "For the last time, KIRSTEN'S CAT JUMPED ON ME!" he cried, annoyed, and stormed out of the room. Warrick looked from Greg to the door. "It's worse. Someone blended my Cuban blend and Sara's 'coffee'." he joked.

A few days passed, and the CSI's were getting closer to breaking their case. Kirsten had stumbled upon a bat in a dumpster near the crime scene. They lifted off a fingerprint, and sent it for DNA analysis. However, they still couldn't find the weapon that gave Roy Spearman knife wounds that were too small to be the size of a regular, small knife. After an hour of searching, Greg and Kirsten stopped for a moment to reflect. "Nick's still hasn't found a knife that could match the mould we cast from the body, and we haven't found a knife around here yet… Maybe our guy took the knife with him." Kirsten suggested. "If that's the case, then this was a waste of time. Still, we have to keep searching." Greg replied. Kirsten sighed, wiping off the sweat on her brow.

They suddenly heard one of their cell phones ring. Both checked their cell phones. Realizing it was Greg's cell phone that was ringing, he answered it. "Hello?" He said. "It's Nick." said the man on the other line. "I've got a match to the blade. We've got a pocket knife." Greg put his hand on his side. "It's a pocket knife? Oh, our search just got easier…" said Greg sarcastically. "Well, there's a window near your locked door, Greg. Mia got a match to the fingerprint, a 'Colin Demarche'. Ironically enough, he's a client of Roy's who's insurance claim was rejected. _Plus _he so happens to play amateur baseball. I think we've got enough evidence that he did it, and a motive. If we find the pocket knife and find his prints all over it, we'll get a slam dunk on this case." said Nick. "It's already been an hour, and we still haven't found it though." protested Greg.

"Hey, come over here for a minute." said Kirsten, who was looking at the gutters. "Do you see that?" she added, pointing to something shiny stuck there. "Hold on Nick." Greg said through the phone. He handed Kirsten his phone, and got a ladder. Climbing up the ladder, he picked up the shiny object with a gloved hand. "What is it?" Kirsten asked him. Greg held the object out. "A pocket knife with a bloody blade." he answered.

"So, ready for your first interrogation?" Nick asked Kirsten, as they stood outside the interrogation room. "Uh yeah… tell me, why do I have to do this?" Kirsten asked. "Because it's part of the field test. Get through this, and you pass." Greg answered. They watched their suspect sit down in front of the table. "You're up. "Nick told Kirsten, and pushed her gently towards the door. Kirsten sighed, and then went inside.

A great deal of nervousness filled Kirsten's mind, but she tried hard not to let it show on her face. She sat down in front of the suspect as calmly as she could. For a man in his mid- 30's, he already looked quite aged, with a mixture of annoyance. Kirsten tapped her fingers on the table before she began talking. "So Mr. Demarche… I hear that Roy Spearman, our victim, was your insurance broker. Tell me what your insurance claim was." she asked him. Demarche paused for a minute, and then answered; "I play baseball, and I get a few bad injuries here and there. I asked if they could pay the coverage for my injuries. They said that my insurance only covered some of it, and only paid 30." Kirsten nodded. "And how did you get that cut on your cheek?" she asked. Demarche shrugged. "A little accident." was his answer. "Alright then… on Saturday, 5 p.m., January 18th, were you ever in the motel room Roy Spearman stayed in?" she continued. Demarche rubbed the back of his neck. "Alright, I admit to being in that room that day… We had a few choice words, then I left." he said. Fragment (consider revising) Then why did we find your fingerprints on the murder weapons, plus the doorknob?" Kirsten questioned him. Demarche didn't reply. Kirsten gave a satisfied grin, and straightened her back. "I think I know how the whole thing went." she began.

"You walk in, a bat in your hand; just in case something went wrong. You two had your 'choice words'. But unfortunately, his 'choice words' made you a little ticked off. In came the bat. Strike one." Demarche shifted uneasily in his seat, but kept a straight face. "Then things got really heated, and you got out of control. He scratched you, giving you that cut on your cheek. Pissed off, you try to strangle Roy with the telephone wire. Strike two." said Kirsten. She then put the pocket knife they found earlier on the table, bagged in an evidence bag. "Then you crossed your T's and dotted your I's. You finished him off. Strike three… you're out." she concluded.

Demarche had an amused grin o his face. "You're good." he commented in a somewhat mockingly voice. "I just started." Kirsten replied. "You do know that I'm going to need a lawyer." Demarche said. Kirsten shrugged. "Good luck." she said merely. Demarche stood up, and the cop shadowing Kirsten stepped forward to arrest Demarche. Before the cop could handcuff Demarche, Demarche suddenly elbowed the cop hard in the ribs, and stole his gun. Kirsten froze in her seat. "Nobody move, or else I shoot!" he cried. The cop stayed on the ground, holding his chest in agony.

"Shit! Someone call security!" Nick ordered. Greg ran his hand through his hair, just as panicky as Nick. "Nick, if anyone steps into that room Kirsten's gonna get killed!" Greg reminded him. Nick turned to him. "Then what the hell are we supposed to do! You got any ideas wise guy!" Nick asked angrily. Greg sighed, but said nothing. Grissom and Catherine same running in. "What's going on?" Catherine asked. Grissom looked at Demarche through the hidden mirror wall. "We'll have to negotiate with him." he said.

Nick walked slowly into the room, wearing a bullet-proof vest. Demarche was about to pull the trigger. "Wait! Let-Let's talk first." he said in a pleading voice. "Fine, but stay where you are, and drop any weapons." said Demarche hastily. "I'm not armed. Listen… Do you really want to do this?" Nick asked. Demarche didn't answer. "Dude… you're already facing like, 10 years in prison, don't make it worse. Shoot her and you'll go to Death Row." Nick continued. Still no movement. Nick folded his arms. "Drop the gun, Demarche." he warned. Grissom, Catherine and Greg watched anxiously behind t he mirror wall.

Demarche grinned. "Like I care." he replied, and pulled the trigger…

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A/N: Look, I ain't gonna post the next chapter 'til I get at least **20 **reviews in my story. Advertise! 


	5. Do you Care?

A/N: Well, so far, when I started writing Chapter 5, there were **19 **reviews. Yay! I didn't really expect that the review would come in this quickly, so thanks guys! Now, like I promised, I'll continue the story. Just don't be shocked when you find out who gets shot. :P

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Chapter 5: Do you Care?

Kirsten flinched. Was it over? Was she gone? She kept her eyes closed, too scared to move. She shrieked as she was pushed out of her seat, a body over her. There were two gunshots, and the shattering of glass. Kirsten heard a scream of pain, and a large commotion.

"Kirsten? You ok?" asked a voice. Kirsten felt a hand on her shoulder. Realising she was alive, she opened her eyes. Nick and Catherine were kneeling beside her, both with worried looks on their faces. Kirsten sat up, shaken. "I-I'm OK… What happened to Demarche?" she asked. "He shot the mirror wall, and tried to make a run for it. The security got him before he could take another step out of the room." answered Catherine. All three watched the security handcuff Demarche, and take him out of the room. "But I heard a yell - I-I was pushed out of my seat! Nick… did Demarche shoot someone…?" Kirsten asked frantically. Kirsten felt something push her gently on the side. She gasped at the person beside her, covering her mouth. "Oh my god! GREG!" she cried.

Greg was lying on the ground, wincing and covering his bleeding arm in pain. Paramedics immediately came to him. Kirsten looked at Nick in shock. "He took the bullet for you. Stormed right in, jumped and slid on the table, and pushed you out of the way." Nick said softly. Kirsten suddenly stood up as soon as the paramedics took Greg away from the room. Both Nick and Catherine stood up after her. Before they could say another word, Kirsten had run out of the room.

"So how is he?" Grissom asked the doctor at the hospital. The CSI's were waiting quietly outside the hallway in front of Greg's room, all anxious. The doctor slipped on his glasses. "He'll be fine. We'll extract the bullet as soon as possible." he said. "Will it affect him permanently?" Grissom asked. "Well, we'll be able to remove the bullet with no problems at all, but Greg will be a bit weak with his arm. It's nothing fatal." the doctor replied.

Hours passed. Grissom started pacing the hallway. Nick and Warrick were leaning against the wall. Kirsten, Catherine and Sara sat quietly on a bench. Finally, the doctor came out, and pulled off his surgery mask. "How was it?" Warrick asked. "Greg's fine and well. We removed it without a problem. He's resting as we speak." the doctor answered. "Is he awake?" Kirsten asked all of a sudden. All eyes went to her. Kirsten ignored them. "Yes." the doctor answered. Kirsten nodded, and went into the room. Nick, Warrick and Grissom exchanged glances.

Kirsten grabbed a stool, and planted it beside Greg's bed. Greg gave her a confused look. "Why are you here?" he asked her. Kirsten sat down on the stool, giving him a stink eye. "Why the _hell _did you take the bullet you idiot!" she scolded. "Better me getting it to my arm than you getting it to the head, right? Besides, you should be thankful. You're alive." said Greg. Kirsten smacked his uninjured arm. "Hey! One injury at a time!" Greg said. "_I _would have been alive, but _you _would have died!" Kirsten rebuked. "And since when did you care?" Greg asked her. Kirsten was taken aback, and tried to reply. "B-Because… Hey, but why would you take the bullet in the first place! Do YOU care!" Kirsten asked back. There was a moment of silence. Both of them looked away, and replied simultaneously.

"_Yes_."

Kirsten left the room.


	6. Am I Stoked?

A/N: Doo dumm…… STILL don't know how the ending should turn out…. Hopefully by writing Chapter 6, I'll get an idea sooner or later. :D

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Chapter 6: Am I Stoked? 

'_Kirsten…..'_

The voice teased her. Every muscle in her body dared not move.

'_Kirsten…….?'_

She didn't want to get up. She wanted to stay in this comfy couch, and doze off the morning.

"KIRSTEN! WAKE UP!"

Kirsten jolted up from the couch, hair over her face. She looked up at Nick in annoyance. "What…?" she asked sleepily. "Get up, break's over!" said Nick. Kirsten groaned, and stretched her arms. "What time is it?" she asked him. Nick checked his watch. "4 a.m. And it's not gonna stay that way if you don't move." Kirsten rolled her eyes, and got up. "Alright…. What's our case…?" she asked. Nick gave her a folder. "A young woman was murdered at her house, a shot in the head. Greg's with us, we have to wait for him." Kirsten froze at the mention of his name. "… I thought he was still at the hospital…" she thought out-loud. "He was released early. Quicker healer than we expected, eh?" Nick answered. Kirsten gave a sheepish nod.

"Hey… About our visit at the hospital… what'd you say to Greg?" Nick asked. Kirsten raised a brow. "Why was everyone crowded in front of the door when I exited?" she asked back. "My question first." said Nick. Kirsten shrugged. "Just a mere 'Thank You'." she lied. Nick nodded, a look of suspicion on his face. "Now what about my question?" she asked. Nick didn't reply, and left the lounge.

Kirsten sighed, and decided to follow him. Still looking at the folder, she didn't see the person in front of her. She dropped the folder at the moment of their collision. "Sorry…" said the familiar figure. Kirsten ignored the person, and picked up the folder. She stood up, face to face with Greg. Both didn't say a word. After a moment of silence, Kirsten moved out of the way to let Greg pass. Greg didn't move. Kirsten groaned, and pushed him out of the way. As she advanced through the hallway, she noticed that Greg was following her. Annoyed, she stopped, and Greg bumped into her again. She hit him on the shoulder, irritated. "What the hell!" she said angrily. "What? We're on the same case, right?" Greg asked. "Well, yea, but at least walk beside me, and don't make me feel like I'm being stalked." Kirsten told off. Greg ran his hand through his hair, looking frustrated. "OK, listen to me. We need to talk." said Greg. Kirsten put her hands on her hips. "Why so?" she asked. "Because we need to." Greg replied. "What do you mean we _need _to?" Kirsten asked again. "Look, just bear with me. I'm taking you to the diner down 52nd after shift for coffee." said Greg.

"Whatever."

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Greg and Kirsten sat across each other at small round table at the diner. Neither of them touched their coffee, or said a word. Greg drummed his fingers, as if he was waiting for something to happen. Kirsten sighed. "These awkward silences get more 'fun' by the minute…." she joked. Greg gave a weak smile. He looked around. "Some conversation at the hospital, eh?" he asked. It was Kirsten's turn to smile weakly. "You didn't mean what you said… did you…?" she asked. Both donned dumbfounded looks. "…. Did you…?" Greg asked. More silence.

"…Greg? Why did you dive on the table, anyway?" Kirsten asked. "What do you mean?" Greg asked back. "I mean, what compelled you to risk your life like that?" Kirsten continued. Greg stopped drumming his fingers."… I don't know." he replied. "Oh you _do _know. You're just not telling me." Kirsten said suspiciously. "I told you, I don't know." Greg defended.

"Yeah you do!"

"No I don't!"

"YES you DO!"

"Stop it, you're making a scene!"

"I don't give a damn, tell me!"

"Because I didn't want you to die!"

Kirsten stared at Greg in disbelief. "W-What…." she asked confused. Greg sighed, shaking his head. "Listen… ever since I met you, every time I go near you, it's like you're hostile to me. It's like I'm scared of you or something, but in fact I'm really not… God I'm just confused right now…" Greg groaned, and leaned back on his chair, looking up.

Kirsten herself was confused. "Wait wait wait….. Let me get this straight: You're scared to know me, but you saved me?" she asked. Greg looked at her. "Yeah, I guess." he said. Kirsten raised a brow. "Why?" She asked. "I don't know… ever since I broke up with my ex-girlfriend, I've been too scared to meet new people." Greg replied. Kirsten shrugged. "Well… maybe it's because of the fact that you're too scared of the past to move on to the future." she said. "Your thoughts?" Greg asked. Kirsten motioned him to come closer. Both leaned forward. Kirsten whispered to him; 'Consider a therapist.' Greg laughed, and shook his head. "Uh huh, sure, I will." he joked. Kirsten sighed. "What I don't get is the fact that you're 'scared of the past.'" she said. Greg shrugged. "I don't know either." he said. "OK…" Kirsten sat further back in her chair.

"Greg, ask me any question." she said. "What do you mean?" Greg asked. Kirsten folded her arms. "Ask me anything you want to know about me." she replied. Greg raised his brows. "Uh… OK. Umm… When's your birthday?" he asked. "October 20th." Kirsten answered. She smiled. "That wasn't so hard, wasn't it?" she asked. Greg shook his head, and began to drink his coffee. "I have another question." he said. "And what is it?" Kirsten responded. "What compelled you to become a CSI?" he asked. Kirsten paused for a moment. "I… don't know. As soon as Nick started his career, all he's been doing is talking about it to everyone. I figured, if it's happening to him, I might as well want it to happen to me to." she answered. Greg cocked his head. "So what you're saying is that you were compelled to become one." he said. Kirsten smiled, and nodded. "Anything else?" she asked. Greg gave an amused sigh. "Oh, a hell lot." he answered. Kirsten laughed.

After an hour talking, with two cups of coffee each, the diner decide to close for the night. Both sat quietly in their car seats, no longer being as talkative as before. As soon as they got to her apartment building, he walked her to her door without being asked. They stood in front of the door for a moment. Kirsten fidgeted a little. "Thanks for coffee." she said. She held out her hand. Greg blinked, and looked at her hand. Slowly, he took it, and they shook hands. They stared at each other, still holding hands. Without a word, they kissed.

'_I don't think I've ever met a guy like you _' she whispered. Greg smiled, caressing her hair. '_I'm not like other guys_'. he whispered back.

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A/N: Gimme more time while I try to sort out the story plot, 'k? 

EDIT: I've just gotten a review telling me that someone has copied my story! When I visited it, it turns out that the story is a complete rip-off from mine! Until this problem is settled, I refuse to update this story, in case the author continues to copy my story. Thank you to the reviewer for telling me.


	7. The Next Day

A/N: Phew…. I can finally add Chapter 7.

Side note: Hmm…. I just realised my chapters are getting longer and longer….. lol

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Chapter 7: The Next Day

Nick whistled as he got out of his car. It was a peasant morning, and he felt pleasant himself. He waved at Warrick, who joined him. "Hey, I see that Kirsten's here before you." said Warrick, as he punched fists with Nick. Nick raised a brow, and looked around the parking lot. Sure enough, Kirsten's car was in a parking space close to the front of the crime lab. "Wow, that's a first. And in the same spot as yesterday too." Nick commented. As they passed through the glass doors of the crime lab, he gave the secretary at the front desk a friendly wave. "Oh, by the way, on our bet: my team won." said Warrick. Nick rolled his eyes, and gave Warrick a twenty dollar bill. Warrick grinned as he put the bill in his wallet. Both got some coffee in the lounge, and said 'Hi' to Catherine. "Hey Cath, seen Kirsten?" Nick asked. Catherine raised a brow. "What are you talking about? Kirsten always arrives at the lab around 6. It's 5:30 right now." said Catherine warily. "Kirsten's car is in the parking lot though." said Warrick. Nick looked worried. "I'm gonna call her." he said, dialing Kirsten's number.

Meanwhile, Kirsten yelped as her tabby cat jumped on her head. "BELLE!" Kirsten cried, her voice muffled underneath her cat's. Belle meowed, and jumped off Kirsten's bed. Kirsten checked the time. She suddenly jumped out of bed. "Oh my god it's 5:30!" she said in one breath. She scrambled to fix her bed, and began to brush her messy hair in the washroom. She heard her phone ring distantly in her bed room. Running to her room, she crashed down on her bed (groaning over the fact that she'd have to fix it up again), and picked up the phone. "Hello?" she replied.

"It's me, Nick. Why aren't you at work, when your car is?"

Kirsten yawned before she replied. "I went out, and I was picked up." Nick chuckled. "And let me guess, you don't have a ride to work, and you want me to pick you up." he replied, amusement in his voice. Kirsten ran to the bathroom as he talked, phone between her ear and shoulder. She grabbed the brush, and continued fixing her hair. "If you'd ever be so kind." she replied back to Nick. "Alright then, be there in a couple of minutes." said Nick, who then hung up. Kirsten moaned, and rushed to get ready for work.

Greg stood in front of the coffee machine in the lounge, tired. As he poured himself a cup of coffee, Sara nudged him gently on the shoulder. "Good morning kiddo. You look tired." said Sara. Greg shrugged. "Couldn't sleep last night. Had too much coffee after shift. I was out." he replied. Greg sat down on the couch. After getting a cup of coffee herself, Sara sat down beside him. "Out? With who?" Sara asked. Greg shrugged again. "Would it be someone I know? Was it a date?" she continued to ask. Another shrug from Greg. Sara shook her head. "Come on, tell me! Is she pretty or what? I won't tell anyone!" she pleaded. Greg sighed. "Last night Kirsten and I went out for some coffee. We talked, I drove her home." he replied. Sara leaned back into the couch, nodding and smirking. "What?" Greg asked her. It was Sara's turn to shrug. "It's obvious. Something happened when you drove you home. Per se, a _kiss_?" Sara asked him slyly. Greg rolled his eyes, and sipped his coffee. "You're acting like a five-year-old." he told her. Sara gave a squeal of excitement, her smirk turning to a wide grin. "Aha! So you did!" she exclaimed. Greg stood up, patting Sara's shoulder. "I know your coffee is pathetic, but don't drink Warrick's." Greg warned her, and began to walk away. Sara looked from her coffee to Greg. "But it tastes good!" she called back to him.

Later, Kirsten , Greg and Nick were walking down the hallway, after solving their latest case. "That went way too fast. A suicide? Come on! I wanted to nail someone down!" Kirsten complained. "The girl was suffering from a sickness for five miserable years. Her fingerprints were on the gun, there was no sign of defensive wounds, plus she was alone and there was no sign of someone else in the house. I kinda feel sad for the girl though. Poor kid." said Nick. "So… what are we gonna do 'til we get our next case?" Greg asked. They all looked at each other. "I don't know. I didn't expect to finish this case this fast." said Kirsten. "Hey, why don't we play a game on my PS2 in the lounge?" asked Nick. Kirsten shrugged. "Sure why not." she said. "Hold on, I'll meet you guys there, I gotta go get my iPod in my locker." said Greg. He gave them a two-fingered salute (getting a raised eyebrow from Nick and a look of amusement from Kirsten) and headed to the locker room. However, when he got there, he was shocked to see a young woman his age standing there, waiting for him. She had long, curly brown hair, and brown eyes. She was wearing a black shirt, and long blue jeans. Around her neck, accompanied by a visitor's pass, was a locket.

The woman smiled at him. Greg just gave her a look of confusion. "Madison! What the hell are you doing here!" he asked, shocked.

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A/N: ANOTHER review request! This time, no updates 'til I get to **35 **reviews! Comeon, that's not much, just 8 more reviews is all I'm asking for:D


	8. Get the Message

A/N: Yaaaay! More reviews! Much appreciated guys! Now continuing the 'pinnacle' point of the story.

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Chapter 8: Get the Message

Greg looked at Madison with gritted teeth. Why had she decided to come bother him once more? He had already made himself clear that he didn't want to see her again. "Why the hell are you here?" he asked her angrily. Madison gave him a smile that made him boil inside. "I wanted to visit you." she answered, wiggling her visitor's pass at the word 'visit'. "Well you just wasted your time, leave." Greg growled, opening his locker. "Come on Greg, I just wanna talk to you." said Madison. Greg rolled his eyes as he reached for his iPod. "After what you did to me? Don't think I didn't know you were actually _cheating_ on me!" Greg cried in response. Madison was taken aback. "What? And why do you think that?" Madison defended, annoyed. Greg slammed his locker door shut. "You were always out late. Whenever we were supposed to go out together, you'd say you couldn't go because you were 'busy'. Look, I could go on and on with all your faults, but I have better stuff to do." said Greg, and began to walk away. Madison folded her arms. "There's someone else now, isn't there?" she asked him quietly. Greg stopped in his tracks, and turned around. "What the hell do you want from me, Madison?" he hissed at her. Madison looked like she was at the brink of tears. "I wanted to get back together with you again. I wanted to make up." she admitted. Greg was furious. "Are you crazy? After what happened to us? You decided to move on after I decided to stay behind a bit, but now that I'm moving on, you want me back with you? Make up your goddamn mind!" Before Madison could say anything, Greg had left the room. She grinned deviously. "Like they say, move any obstacle on the road if you want to get to your destination." she said.

"So, you guys going out on another date?" Sara asked Kirsten, at the end of their shift in the locker room. Kirsten froze. "What do you mean…?" she asked, a bit frightened. "Greg told me about you guys dating. By the way, you don't need that much makeup to impress Greg. He likes natural girls." said Sara. "W-what!" Kirsten stammered a bit, then relaxed. "Please don't tell Nick." she said softly. She looked around. "You sure I don't need makeup?" Kirsten asked nervously. "Well, only a little." said Sara. Kirsten removed some of her makeup. "Soo… where you guys gonna go?" Sara asked. Kirsten shrugged. "Around…." she replied. Sara rolled her eyes. "That's helpful. Have fun 'going around'." said Sara sarcastically. Kirsten smiled at her sweetly. "I'm sure I will." she said, and left. Sara raised a brow. "I don't even wanna know what that means…" she said to herself.

Greg and Kirsten walked down the streets of Las Vegas, Kirsten holding onto Greg's arm. There were bright lights and buildings everywhere. Cars whizzed by them like torpedoes, and people crowded the sidewalk. There were promises of untold riches and great entertainment in the numerous casinos and clubs. Kirsten observed her surroundings with wonder. "Wow… this place is definitely nothing like Los Angeles." Kirsten gasped. Greg held her closer. "How so?" he asked. "Everything here is so… fast-paced. In Los Angeles, it was a bit more relaxed, and not so many signs saying 'Live Nudes'." Kirsten joked. They both laughed. Greg eyed a restaurant ahead of them. "So, wanna go there for dinner?" he asked her. He pointed out the restaurant. With some thought, Kirsten shrugged. "Sure, why not?" she answered.

They chatted happily as they went up the stairs of the apartment building Kirsten lived in. "The elevator shuts down for repairs, and you _happen _to live on the 11th floor. Have you considered moving?" Greg asked Kirsten. "Yeah, but Nick would need to make room in his house." Kirsten answered. They both laughed. One fleet of stairs above them, was the door leading to the 11th floor. "Ten buck says I'm gonna get to that door first." Kirsten said confidently. Greg looked at her, both pausing for a second. They both suddenly dashed up the steps, giggling. Kirsten ran into Greg as soon as he opened the door, and they crashed onto the ground. Both of them started to laugh really hard, their faces red. "Shh, some people are sleeping!" Kirsten said, struggling between her laughter. They both settled down, Greg helping Kirsten up. Greg had his arm around Kirsten as she unlocked her door. She suddenly pulled Greg into her apartment, and Greg closed the door behind them.

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A/N: o0 Had to admit, kinda weird for me to write the last bit there. Read and gimme REAL reviews! THX


	9. Broken Peace

A/N: Sad to say, but this is my second-to-last chapter (excluding the epilogue). Awwwwwwww!

Chapter 9: Broken Peace

A few quiet days had passed. It seemed like nothing special was happening, and the CSI team's gruesome cases didn't quite make things any more exciting. Until one day...

Kirsten stormed into Grissom's office, looking dishevelled. Grissom looked up at her in peculiar. "I need a few days off." Kirsten started. Grissom shifted his glasses. "What for?" he asked her. "I feel sick. I'm throwing up for no reason and I have headaches. I think I'm coming down with a fever." Kirsten answered quickly. Grissom raised a brow. "Why are you talking so quickly." he asked. Kirsten hesitated before answering. "I'm about to throw up." Grissom picked up his trash can and offered it to her. "No thanks." said Kirsten. She suddenly covered her mouth and ran out of the office. Grissom shook his head, and continued going through his paperwork. "Poor kid, I wish her luck." Grissom chuckled.

Greg grinned as he successfully removed a fingerprint from a towel bar in the crime scene. He and Nick were working on a murder of a 12 year old boy who had been tortured to death in his bathroom. Three hours of hard work had paid off, and already they had enough evidence to put the convict behind bars.

Sara came into the room, slipping a pair of gloves on. "Hey Greg, anything interesting?" she asked Greg. Greg stood up. "I lifted a print off the towel bar. What are you doing here?" Greg asked Sara, as she was observing the crime scene. "Grissom assigned me to this case. Kirsten's on sick leave." Sara answered. Greg seemed dumbfounded. "Kirsten is sick?" he thought out-loud. His cell phone began to ring. Greg answered it hastily.

"Hello… Kirsten? I was about to call you!" Greg began.

There was a long pause.

"…Ok…"

Another pause.

"I-It's nothing. Look, I'll check up on you after shift. Just relax and don't strain yourself."

Greg hung up and continued working, his face pale. Sara looked at him, worried "What's wrong?" she asked. Greg shook his head, melancholy. "It's nothing." he repeated to her.

Greg sighed as he knocked on Kirsten's door. How could he talk to her now after what she had just told him? He never wanted things to turn out this way! Counting the seconds until something happened, Greg grew impatient. He knocked on the door again, calling Kirsten's name. After a minute with no reply, Greg decided to go in and see what was going on. He looked around to see if anyone was looking. Satisfied that he was alone, he pulled out the extra key under the door mat and unlocked the door.

Ignoring the cat, who was rubbing up against his leg, Greg looked around. He closed the door an paused. "Something's not right…" he said to himself. "Greg eyes the TV, which was still on. As he took a sharper look at his surroundings, he noticed evidence of a struggle. The pillows that were supposed to be on the couch were littered on the floor, and a corner of the rug was overturned. Worried, Greg called Kirsten's cell phone number. There was no reply. "Kirsten!" Greg cried. "Where the hell are you! Is this some joke?" He searched all the rooms, Getting no results. As he combed through the kitchen, he found a small note on the table. On it was scribbled;

'Silent night until they find the knife,

YOU'RE GUILTY!'

Greg clenched the note in his pocket, and immediately called Nick

A/N: For punk rock fans, you might notice that the words from the note are from the song 'Devil in a Midnight Mass" by Billy Talent. That song's been stuck in my head for a while now, plus I didn't know what to write in the note. :P


	10. Bleed it Out

A/N: HOLY SHIT. Three years, and I got back to this story. So sorry, guys, I kinda abandoned for a really long time… so as promised I will end the story, as well as put up the epilogue.

Chapter 10: Bleed it Out

--

"When's the last time you saw her?!"

Nick and Greg stood in the living room, not moving an inch so they wouldn't contaminate the crime scene.

"We saw each other before my shift this morning." We talked, she left." Greg answered nervously. Nick read Greg's thoughts through his face. "Kirsten uh… wanted me to drop her purse off here. She forgot it." Greg continued, fibbing. Sweat beaded on his brow. Nick, noticing this, grew suspicious.

"Greg, I'm gonna need your prints, and a sample of your DNA." he said, pulling out a swab. Greg was taken aback. "What? You think I kidnapped her?!" Greg protested. "Hey, listen pal," Nick jabbed his finger on Greg's shoulder. "I can tell you're hiding something from me, and you better cough it up!" Greg himself was now also upset. "What makes you think that? Don't you trust me?" Nick clenched his teeth.

"Ever since Kirsten came, you've been acting unusual, and not like your usual self. I knew you'd develop some puppy dog crush on her, but I expected that it wouldn't last long. Just answer this: Are you in love with my sister?" Both were staring at each other coldly, fixated on each other's eyes.

Greg answered. "Yeah, I do. You have a problem with that?"

Nick sighed with gritted teeth. "Listen… if you hurt Kirsten in any way, I will make you pay back. Kirsten's been through dozens of bad break-ups, and each one has scarred her emotionally. I don't want some other heartless guy to make it worse."

"What kind of guy do you think I am? Besides, Kirsten's still out there, and it's not gonna help if we just stand here and argue." said Greg. He handed Nick the note he found earlier. "I recognised the writing. I think I know who wrote it." Nick looked from the note to Greg.

"Who?" he asked.

"Madison. " was Greg's reply.

--

Greg frantically knocked on Madison's door, Nick, Brass and some cops behind him. He yelled through the door.

"Madison! I know you have Kirsten! Let me in, so we can talk!" There was no response. Greg pleaded again. "Madison! Let me in!"

After a moment, he received an answer.

"Come in. Alone."

Greg nodded to Brass and Nick. Brass patted Greg on his back. Greg gave a big sigh, and stepped into the room.

Madison was sitting on her couch, looking at him calmly. She then smirked as he closed the door behind him. "You're wearing a bullet proof vest? Do you think I'm psychotic?" she asked him. Greg folded his arms against his chest. "Police procedure. Plus you would be, if you're dumb enough to kidnap a cop." Madison laughed. "What makes you think I kidnapped the girl?" Greg pulled out the note from his pocket. "Who else that I know likes Billy Talent?"

Madison rolled her eyes, and raised her hands in the air. "Caught red handed! It's a good thing you do this for a living." she said, making her way to the closet, and pulled out a bound and gagged victim. Greg clenched his fists.

"Let her go."

Madison pulled out a gun from the drawer. "Or what? You'll call the cops on me? You know, I could kill her before another soul enters this room." Madison cocked her gun. Greg looked away for a minute.

"Fuck you." He stared at her now in hate. "Fuck everything about you. I FUCKING HARE YOU!" Greg yelled, and with that, he dove at her and punched her. Madison's wiled shot at the window before she dropped the gun compelled Brass and Nick to storm in. As Brass arrested Madison, Greg quickly freed Kirsten, who flung herself into his arms, sobbing.

"Are you alright?" he whispered to her. "I… I was so worried… that she might've harmed the baby…" Kirsten sobbed. "What? What baby?" Nick asked, shaken. Kirsten wiped some tears away, then turned to her brother.

"Nick, I don't know how I should tell you this, so I might as well tell you straight up." said Kirsten. She could tell that Nick still saw her as his baby sister, and how much what she was going to say to him was going to hurt. She breathed in, and told him, as the wise, mature young woman she had become.

"I'm pregnant."

Nick froze, looking at them in disbelief. Before Kirsten could say another word, Nick had left the room, slamming the door behind him.

-- Five months later --

Nick heard someone knocking on his door. He groaned, too tired to get off his couch. The persistent knocking finally convinced him to get up and answer the door. The door swung open, and Kirsten was standing at his door, glowing in her pregnancy. She smiled, and waved him a small 'hello'. Nick sighed.

"Come in…" he moaned, and stood aside.

"I haven't seen you in a while." she said. Nick sank into his armchair and said nothing. "The baby's kicking… the doctor says it's going to be a boy." Kirsten continued. Nick's eyes shifted a little to softness.

"What do you want, Kirsten…?" he asked quietly. Kirsten placed her hand on Nick's.

"Why are you bothered with me and Greg?"

Nick looked down. "Kirsten… if Greg hurts you like your other boyfriends have, the pain will be worse if you're left with a kid." Nick said. Kirsten gave him a comforting smile.

"Nick… you're my big brother. You're always looking out for me, warning me to not make a dumb move, and forgiving me when I do. I love you for all that you do for me, but I'm not a little girl anymore. You gotta back off a little. And Greg… I know he will never hurt me. He wouldn't do something like that to me, or you. You're like a brother to him." Kirsten watched him shift in his seat. "There's another thing. Greg proposed to me two weeks ago. But we're not getting married until you give us your blessing."

She then gave him the sweetest, cutest pair of Bambi eyes she could muster. The corner of Nick's lips then curled up. "So I can't be an overprotective brother, but I gotta play the father figure now?" he teased. Kirsten laughed and gave him a hug.


	11. Epilogue: Thanks for the Memories

A/N: So I'm finally wrapping up this darn thing, after three years of inactivity… God have mercy on my soul.

Keep in mind, this was all written before Sara and Warrick 'left'. cough, cough

Epilogue: Thanks for the Memories

Nick closed the door of his car, and marched up the steps to his sister's new home. Taking a deep breath, he knocked the door. Greg peered through the port hole, held his breath, and swung the door open. The two stood there silently for a while.

"Hey. Come in, everyone's on the patio." said Greg. He smiled as Nick stepped in.

"Everyone…?" Nick followed Greg, and greeted the other visitors. Warrick, Sara, Grissom, and Catherine were there, Lindsay accompanying her mother. Nick sat down with them under the umbrella table.

"Hey Nick." Warrick patted him on the back.

"Have you seen the house? It's huge!" Catherine exclaimed.

" Well, we're in the house." Sara rolled her eyes, amused.

"I didn't expect you two to get a nice house, or get a kid together either." said Grissom, before sipping his ice tea.

"Hey, where is my nephew anyway?" Nick punched Greg softly on the shoulder.

"Right here!" said Kirsten, who arrived with her infant son in her arms. Catherine gasped.

"What a cutie!" She gently took the baby out of Kirsten's arms and sat down. Everyone crowded around her.

"He's adorable!" Sara cooed.

"Too bad he looks like his dad." Grissom joked.

"Hey, can't I get a chance to hold him?" Nick complained. Catherine passed the baby over to Nick. He grinned as the baby held his finger firmly. "He's got a killer grip! By the way, what'd you name him?" Greg and Kirsten grinned.

"His full name is Nicholas Gregory Sanders. After his uncle." Nick laughed softly. "You guys are as cute as Junior." he said, smiling.


End file.
